Zach hesitated at the doorway, turning back to the man. “Wait. How will they know I’ve started my enlistment here?”

The man blinked, then smacked his forehead as if Zach had reminded him of something obvious. “Right. Almost forgot.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a rectangular device with a small lens embedded in its surface. “Hold still,” he muttered.

Zach froze as the device emitted a sharp flash of light. The man then fumbled in his bag, pulling out a blank sheet of paper. He scribbled rapidly across it, jotting down notes and filling in boxes, before pressing the device against the page. With a faint hum, Zach’s face appeared on the document, crisp and lifelike.

“Here.” The man handed it to Zach. “This will settle it. Just show this when you get to Fort Redstone.”

Zach nodded, glancing over the paper. “Thanks. One last thing—do you have a map?”

The man let out a tired sigh, reached into another drawer, and handed Zach a folded map of the city. Without another word, Zach exited, stepping into the bustling streets.

As he walked, eyes scanning the map, his mind drifted to the situation he had thrown himself into. This wasn’t ideal—not even close. A regular job would’ve been better, simpler. But regular jobs didn’t offer protection from “Glory” or Geroi.

The military, however, was a different story. If they found Zach valuable, they could tell Geroi to fuck off. That kind of leverage was priceless. Still, there was a chance Geroi could pull rank, draft him back to the lab under the pretext of military research.

Zach wasn’t a cityzen—he doubted he had rights that protected him from drafts, but if it came down to it, he’d argue he was too much of a liability for sensitive work.

“Serve a year, get my papers,” Zach muttered to himself. “Then figure things out.”

After that? Maybe he’d start a business. He could use his chemistry skills to produce something profitable—cheap products, undercut the competition. Labor costs wouldn’t be an issue. Or, if military training gave him the right skills, he could become a mercenary. It wasn’t glamorous, but high-profile mercenaries made serious money.

The thought made him groan. Fighting stressed him out, and yet here he was, voluntarily joining the military. “Yeah, real smooth, Zach,” he muttered. “Not like you had a choice.” It wasn’t a career—it was survival.

The city thinned as he walked, the streets giving way to wide roads lined with sparse buildings. Carriages rattled past, their drivers focused on their destinations. Zach sighed as his feet ached from the endless walking. “Would’ve been nice to have a few coins for a ride,” he thought.

Another thought wormed its way into his head. War. What if there actually was one? He didn’t want to end up as cannon fodder, caught in some explosion or firefight. But then again, wasn’t this why he wanted to get stronger? Fear of the unknown, fear of being helpless—that’s what drove him to join in the first place. Training could prepare him, give him the skills he needed to survive and grow.

Hours passed. Zach trudged on until a long, wide carriage came to a stop beside him. The driver leaned out, his face weathered but friendly. “Where you heading, son?”

“Fort Redstone,” Zach replied. “I’m enlisting.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Recruiter already talked to you?”

Zach nodded.

The driver’s eyes scanned Zach’s clothes. “Huh. Would’ve pegged you for a lab worker. Glory, maybe, not a soldier.”

“I quit,” Zach said flatly.

The man blinked, clearly baffled. From inside the carriage, voices called out.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Hop on, man!”

“Yeah, don’t walk all day!”

Zach paused, realizing the situation. “Wait, this is a recruitment bus?”

The driver answered. “That’s right. You coming or not?”

Zach climbed aboard, finding the carriage almost packed. He squeezed into a seat at the back, wedged between a stocky man with calloused hands and a young woman with two deep scars running down her neck.

“Hey,” he greeted them. "My name is Zach James."

"Sup, I'm Iroy Chestbuilder," The man replied.

"Hi. My names Is Ivonah, Houseclimber."

What the hell kind of family names are these?

It reminded him of Markinson family 'tombreakers.'

As the carriage rumbled forward, Ivonah asked Zach. “So how long did you work at Glory?”

“A day,” Zach said. “That count?”

The words were barely out before the entire bus erupted in disbelief.

“A day?”

“You quit after one day?”

“Did they fire you?” someone asked, leaning forward.

Zach raised a hand, trying to calm them. “No, I quit. Lasted one day.”

“Why? People would kill for that position," Ivonah asked, baffled.

“I wanted a bit more freedom,” Zach said.

The man beside him let out a low chuckle. “And you joined the military? Doesn’t sound like freedom to me.”

"Trust me, it made sense for me.”

The carriage creaked and jolted as it trundled down the road, the buildings gradually fading into the distance behind them.

The road to Fort Redstone was wide, flanked on either side by tall iron pillars that flickered with pale blue light. Beyond the road, the land stretched out in uneven patches of grass and stone, lit by the moon hanging low in the sky and the floating lamps.

In the distance, Fort Redstone loomed—a monolithic structure of dark stone and iron, its towers capped with glowing beacons that cast their light across the area. The walls were massive, reinforced with riveted metal plates, and spiked banners fluttered in the cool night breeze. Surrounding it, smaller structures dotted the area—barracks, storage buildings, and a few scattered training yards marked by faintly glinting weapon racks.

As they drew closer, the road dipped slightly, and the terrain became smoother. Stone pillars lined the entrance, each etched with military insignias.

The carriage came to a stop just outside the main gate. Soldiers in dark uniforms stood guard, their eyes sharp as they examined the approaching group. The gate itself was a massive steel contraption, embossed with a crest depicting a single flower growing on a massive burial site.

Zach figured that it had something to do with the great war.

“All right, everyone out!” the driver barked.

The passengers clambered down, Zach following the flow of the crowd. The ground beneath his boots was a mix of gravel and packed dirt, crunching softly with each step. A soldier approached clipboard in hand, his face lit by the glow of the nearby torches.

“Papers,” he called out.

Zach handed over the document. The man inspected it briefly before nodding. “You’ve started the enlistment process. Follow the corridor to the right, and they’ll review your details further. Once you’re approved, they’ll provide your initial instructions.”

Zach gave a short nod and continued down the corridor.

The night deepened as he stepped back outside, now awaiting his assignment. He was directed to a waiting area near the outer edge of the fort, a room lined with rows of plain benches and a handful of other recruits. The air was heavy with anticipation as the new arrivals sat, some quietly chatting, others nervously tapping their feet.

Zach took a seat, glancing around the room as other recruits filtered in. Spotting Ivonah and Iroy near the entrance, he waved them over. The two hesitated for a moment before making their way through the sparse crowd.

Ivonah sat down beside Zach. "Thanks."

"No problemo."

Iroy, tall and broad-shouldered, settled in on the other side of her, his posture relaxed but his eyes scanning the room. "So... anyone worried about the tests?"

Zach responded. "Nah."

He was smart, sometimes; he was academically smart, at the very least. And he was surprisingly very strong and fast. There was nothing to fear. Matter a fact, he was expecting to score high on everything.

"Wish I could say the same," Ivona muttered. "I’ve heard these tests are brutal."

"Eh, nerves won’t help," Iroy interjected, leaning back slightly. "You’ll be fine. As long as you're confident there's nothing to worry about."

Zach looked at him. He immediately thought that Iroy seemed like the guy who wouldn't study but rely on luck.

Ivonah nodded hesitantly, her gaze flicking to the floor. Zach gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You’ve got this."

Of course, he didn't know her well enough to know if she had this or not, but it didn't hurt to help someone in need.

The room suddenly hushed. Whispers rippled through the group as a figure passed, flanked by several armored knights.

The woman leading them was striking, her presence impossible to ignore. She wore an elegant dress of deep blue, embroidered with silver patterns that caught the torchlight. Her eyes were mesmerizing—vivid and unnatural, like swirling pools of molten gold. The knights around her, tall and imposing in intricately crafted armor, carried themselves with a quiet authority. They wore no helmets, their faces set in hard, stoic expressions.

The group watched in silence as the woman and her entourage disappeared into one of the larger buildings near the fort’s center.

I guess she's some big shot.